


Sometimes What You See Isn't The Truth

by Creej



Category: White Collar
Genre: Gen, Pre-OT3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:08:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24165625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creej/pseuds/Creej
Summary: Peter sees Elizabeth and Neal together and fears the worst.
Relationships: Elizabeth Burke & Neal Caffrey, Elizabeth Burke/Peter Burke, Peter Burke & Neal Caffrey
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	Sometimes What You See Isn't The Truth

**Author's Note:**

> Thought I'd take a break from my Magic!Peter story for a bit and came up with this. (Sorry for the horrible summary...)

Peter smiled as he lifted two glasses of champagne from the tray of a passing server and turned to see Elizabeth and Neal gliding across the dance floor. His smile faded when he saw how they looked at each other or, more specifically, how Elizabeth looked at Neal. Setting the glasses on a nearby table, he slipped out of the room, out of the building and down the marble steps to the sidewalk. Loosening his tie, he stuffed it in a pocket and undid the first few buttons of his shirt as he made his way down the street. He hated the tux, he hated how it felt and how he looked in it. He knew he didn't look good, unlike Neal who was everything he wasn't - charming, charismatic, suave, witty, gorgeous. He knew there was only one thing he had in common with the other man and that was intelligence. Neal was brilliant so he had to be as well to keep up with him, match him step for step...like Elizabeth had on the dance floor.

He'd seen it coming - of course he had - but he'd never allowed himself to believe it could ever happen. And he wasn't stupid enough or naive enough to think he could win Elizabeth back, not from someone like Neal. Why would she want him when Neal was the perfect partner for her?

Peter blinked back the tears that threatened and drew a shaky breath. Even though it would tear his heart out, even though it would destroy his world, all he wanted was her happiness, even if it wasn't with him. He'd let her go, let her be with Neal if it made her happy.

He was so deep in his thoughts that he didn't see the appreciative looks from the women - and more than a few men - who passed him as he continued walking with no particular destination in mind, though some distant part of him realized he was making his way home. When he started seeing familiar landmarks, he huffed out a humorless laugh. He doubted it would be his home for much longer. Now that Neal was off the anklet, no doubt Elizabeth would rather spend her nights with Neal.

Elizabeth fanned herself with a hand as she sat down, nodding at Neal when he asked if she'd like some wine.

"You two make a nice couple. He's certainly an improvement over the last one you were seeing. The FBI agent? Peter Burke?"

Elizabeth looked over, recognizing a former co-worker from the gallery she used to work at. "Neal? He's just a friend," she said, frowning a little. "And there's more to Peter than meets the eye. He's smart, compassionate, funny and, even though I may be biased, very good looking...and I know he loves me." She saw a trace of skepticism in the other woman's expression and said, "I married him and I couldn't be happier."

"But you have to admit..."

"I don't have to admit anything," Elizabeth said a little sharply. "Yes, Neal is very good looking, gorgeous even but I'm not shallow enough to think that's all that matters." Before she could say something she might regret, Neal returned with two glasses of wine. "Neal, have you seen Peter?"

"Yeah, he's over...there." Neal frowned, not seeing his partner where he'd been just minutes earlier. "Maybe he just went to the men's room," he said. "I'm sure he'll be back soon. Your wine."

Elizabeth pointedly turned her back on the other woman, unable to completely hide her irritation. Neal, of course, noticed.

"Elizabeth?"

"Oh, just...I hate people who judge by looks alone," Elizabeth said. "Like I'd be that shallow." She jerked her head back, indicating her former co-worker. "She thinks I dumped Peter for you...because you're better looking."

"Well, objectively I am," Neal said. "But I know how much you love him and I know looks aren't that important to you."

"Peter's as gorgeous in his way as you are," Elizabeth said.

"He is," Neal agreed.

Something about the way he said it caused Elizabeth to look at him more closely. "Neal?"

"Peter's gorgeous, I've always thought so," Neal said but couldn't quite meet her eyes.

"Neal, do you...?"

"Yes, for a while now," Neal said as he looked at her, aware of the warmth in his face. "I never said anything because..."

"The anklet? But that's not an issue now," Elizabeth said.

"That was only part of it," Neal said. "I didn't want to make him uncomfortable. And he's yours. I'd never want to come between you two." He shrugged. "Besides, I know my feelings are one sided, that he doesn't feel the same for me."

"I think he might," Elizabeth said softly, taking his hand. "You didn't see him when you were in Cape Verde. He tried to hide it but he seemed...lost. He missed you so much those six weeks."

"He never said..."

"He wouldn't," Elizabeth said. "You were in his custody." Her mouth quirked a little. "And he wouldn't want to chance you rejecting him. You intimidate him...a little."

"And here I thought I was an expert at reading people," Neal said ruefully. "I honestly had no idea. Never considered he might."

"You never noticed how clumsy he feels around you? How awkward he sees himself?" Elizabeth asked.

"So what do I do?' Neal asked.

"Peter appreciates honesty,' Elizabeth said. "Tell him how you feel."

Neal scanned the room and didn't see Peter anywhere. "I have to find him first," he said, standing. "Let me check the men's room." A few minutes later, he came back, looking anxious. "He's not there," he said. "I can't find him anywhere. He's gone..."

Peter arrived in Brooklyn, having broken down and taken a cab, and climbed the steps, pausing as he slotted the key into the lock. He wondered if either of them even noticed he was gone...and if they had, if they'd care.

Entering the darkened house, he paused in front of the mantle, his eyes drawn to the "Prom picture" of him and Neal, admitting to himself that what he felt for the man formerly in his custody was more than friendship, more than paternal or familial. Admitted that maybe he was a little in love with him. Not that he thought Neal would ever return those feelings. He'd been Neal's adversary, his jailer, his watchdog and after what he'd seen earlier, he knew his chances that Neal felt the same were nil. And now, he didn't even have Elizabeth.

He placed the picture face down and climbed the stairs, still uncertain about his plans beyond the moment. He knew he would no longer be sleeping in the marital bed - that place belonged to Neal now. He had eyes and that look had been unmistakable.

Entering the bedroom, he quickly gathered a change of clothes and his pajamas and took them up to the little used third floor, startling a little when his phone buzzed with an incoming call. He ignored it. Probably Elizabeth and he didn't want to talk to her just yet, maybe not for a while.

He found what he was looking for in a room at the back - an old sofa, stored quilts and a battered two drawer dresser among other discards. Methodically, he made up the couch with the quilts, folding one into a pillow and changed into his pajamas. Putting his phone on silent, he stuck it in the dresser, knowing one or the other would call. He knew he was putting off getting confirmation of his suspicions, that it was cowardly but he didn't care. With a sigh that was half sob, he lay down, pulling a quilt over him and wondered if he'd ever get used to the idea of them together.

"He's not answering," Neal said worriedly. "It keeps going to voicemail."

Elizabeth sighed. "Same here," she said. 'Where could he be?" Without much hope Peter would answer, she tried again with the same result. She was getting worried.

"What do you want to do?" Neal asked.

"Go home," Elizabeth said. "Maybe he's there."

An interminable cab ride to Brooklyn later, they pulled up outside a dark house and stepped inside.

"Peter? Hon?" Elizabeth called, turning on the lights.

But there was no answer,

"He was here," Neal said quietly. "Our picture..."

Elizabeth turned toward him and saw what he meant - the picture was face down, as if Peter couldn't bear to look at it, couldn't bear to remember.

"I wish I'd told him now," Neal said in that same quiet voice. "Even if he doesn't feel the same."

"You can tell him when he comes home," Elizabeth said in a slightly unsteady voice. "He _will_ come home. He has to."

Peter roused from sleep, uncertain where he was for a moment, his back a little sore from sleeping on the slightly lumpy couch. Something had awakened him and he held still as he listened. Not hearing anything, he got more comfortable and closed his eyes again. But his mind wouldn't settle, going over what he'd seen between Neal and Elizabeth. He realized he'd been willfully blind to what had been happening, what had probably started the morning Neal had shown up at his house his second morning out of prison.

To get his mind off it, he deliberately thought of the most boring cases that had ever crossed his desk but that didn't have the result he was after. He still worked with Neal, would have to see him every day, knowing he was the one his wife was now in love with.

A faint rattling came from the dresser and he sat up. That was what had woken him, he realized. After a brief internal debate, he retrieved his phone, finding almost a dozen missed calls and texts, the last of which said: _Hon, come home. Please._

Peter wondered if they'd use the shorthand he and Elizabeth had devised over the course of their marriage then decided he really shouldn't care. They no doubt had their own already. His fingers hovered over the on-screen keyboard, uncertain if he should answer. Finally, he tapped out a short message: _No. You're Neal's now. I won't interfere._ Once he hit send, he turned off the phone and returned it to the dresser. He'd call in sick tomorrow, give himself at least one day without seeing Neal.

"What the hell does that mean?" Neal asked, reading Peter's answering text.

"I don't know," Elizabeth said. "Why would he even think...? Interfere with what?"

Neal dropped onto the couch with a heavy sigh. "I think I know," he said. "Us. He won't interfere with us." He quirked a sad smile at Elizabeth's puzzled expression. "He never thought he was good enough for you. Maybe he thinks I'd be a...better match. I mean, we have a lot in common, similar tastes, similar interests... He thinks you'd be happier with me."

"I do love you Neal but not like I love Peter," Elizabeth said, sitting beside him.

"I know that and you know that," Neal said. "But I don't think he believes that. Not anymore."

"But why would he think that? We never did anything that would make him think that...did we? We've never acted like we were anything but friends," Elizabeth said.

"I don't know, Elizabeth," Neal said. "And I don't think he'll tell us. It seems like he thinks we already know."

Peter lay in the pre-dawn light, looking up at nothing as his mind replayed, yet again, the events of the night before - Neal and Elizabeth dancing, the smiles they'd given each other, the look Elizabeth had given Neal, one that couldn't be mistaken for anything but contentment, happiness and love and Neal's answering look.

Tears pricked his eyes and he let them fall for a few minutes before he reminded himself that he wanted Elizabeth to be happy. If Neal made her happy then who was he to stand in the way?

Sitting up, he gathered his clothes and dressed before checking his phone, somewhat surprised to find a text from Neal sent very early that morning - just a few hours earlier: _I need to tell you something and I'd prefer to do it face to face._

"You're in love with my wife," Peter said to himself. "I already know. And I know she's in love with you." He sent a quick text to Diana, telling her he was under the weather and wouldn't be in that day even though she wouldn't get it for a few more hours. He turned off the phone again and gazed at the door to the somewhat stuffy room for a minute then picked up his shoes and softly, quietly made his way downstairs. Checking in the master bedroom (Elizabeth's and Neal's room) showed him a bed still made though he found the gown Elizabeth had worn hung up in the closet. He retrieved a suitcase and packed a few days' worth of clothes along with his toiletries, intending to find a cheap hotel. He couldn't stay in the house and still avoid them until he was ready to talk. Taking one last look around, he went downstairs - to find Elizabeth asleep on the couch, her head on Neal's lap.

"Going somewhere?" Neal asked quietly, not wanting to wake Elizabeth.

"Shouldn't I be?" Peter asked in return.

"What's going on, Peter?" Neal asked.

"What's going on is my wife..." Peter stopped. "My wife is in love with you. And I know you're in love with her." He swallowed against the tears that threatened. "I'm...I'm just giving you what you want."

"Peter..."

"I know what I saw, Neal," Peter said. "How you looked at each other last night...It was obvious."

"I don't know what you think you saw but you're wrong," Neal said. He hesitated a moment then said, "Elizabeth's not the one I'm in love with." Carefully he stood, gently slipping a throw pillow under Elizabeth's head and approached Peter, standing deep in his space. "It's not Elizabeth I'm in love with," he said then brushed a kiss across Peter's mouth, barely making contact before he pulled away. "I never told you because I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, didn't want you pulling away. I know you probably don't feel the same for me but..." He shrugged, a small, rueful smile tugging his lips. "I can live with just your friendship. I have for almost five years now."

"How...how can you want _me_?" Peter whispered. "I mean..." He gestured at himself, the meaning clear.

"You have no idea, do you?" Neal asked. "When I saw you in that tux last night..." He huffed a laugh. "God, I wanted to back you into a corner and kiss you until neither of us could breathe. The only reason I didn't was because I didn't want to piss off Elizabeth...or you. So I made do with what I could have. For years, I watched you, admired you...fantasized about you..."

"Fantasized about taking my place maybe," Peter said with more than a trace of bitterness. "And why _wouldn't_ she want you? You're perfect for her."

"Why? Because she loves you,' Neal said. "I'm her friend, that's all. She's never seen me as anything else."

"But I saw..."

"You saw wrong," Neal said. "I love Elizabeth..." He put a finger on Peter's lips to stop whatever he was going to say. "I love Elizabeth but only as a friend. But I'm _in_ love with you. So is she."

Peter searched his face, looking for the con, looking for the lie...but found what he was sure he'd seen for Elizabeth. "How...?"

"It doesn't matter," Neal said. "I love you Peter. I don't know when it started. All I know is I do." He reached up and gently touched Peter's face, feeling the faint stubble on his cheeks and running a thumb over his lips. Neither heard the quick intake of breath as Elizabeth woke to see Neal and Peter, the love so plain it couldn't be mistaken for anything else. She watched, barely breathing, as Peter oh so hesitantly leaned forward and captured Neal's mouth, the kiss at first uncertain then Peter's natural dominance took over and it became both forceful and gentle.

A sob of happiness caught in Neal's throat as he pressed closer and he returned the kiss in equal measure. A laugh bubbled up as he felt Peter's arousal and he broke away so they could catch their breath. "I've dreamed about this so many times.." he said softly. "Dreamed about this gorgeous man, what it would be like to kiss you, be with you..."

"I'm not..." Peter started.

"Yes, you are," Neal said. "You just don't see it. You don't see how others look at you...how some look at you, plainly wanting to just...ravish you and possible spectators be damned."

"He's right, hon," Elizabeth said softly, startling them.

"El?"

"He's right," Elizabeth said again as she joined them.

"You saw?"

"I did," Elizabeth said. "And it feels...right. You and Neal. I knew he was fond of you and it didn't surprise me when he told me how he really felt. It's like I've always known, somewhere in the back of my mind."

"Are you _sure_?" Peter asked, searching her face.

"Hon," Elizabeth said, caressing his face. "I love you, Neal loves you. And yes, I'm sure."

Peter pulled her close, burying his face in the familiar scent of her hair, the way she fit so neatly against him. His other arm went around Neal, breathing a little easier when he felt him return the embrace.

"Stay," Elizabeth whispered. "Stay with us."

Peter breathed out, feeling more at peace than he had in a long time. "I'll stay."


End file.
